ot in my
family.'

"'Captain Jan Pearse, as sure as I stand here, you and your breed will
get your punishment of God.' Old Pearse smiled.

"'Mr. John Ford, that's as may be; but sure as I lie here we won't take
it of you. You can't punish unless you make to feel, and that you can't
du.'"

And that is truth!

Dan went on again:

"'You won't tell me where your son is!' but old Pearse never blinked.

"'I won't,' he said, 'and now you may get out. I lie here an old man
alone, with no use to my legs, night on night, an' the house open; any
rapscallion could get in; d' ye think I'm afraid of you?'

"We were beat; and walked out without a word. But that old man; I've
thought of him a lot--ninety-two, and lying there. Whatever he's been,
and they tell you rum things of him, whatever his son may be, he's a
man. It's not what he said, nor that there was anything to be afraid
of just then, but somehow it's the idea of the old chap lying there. I
don't ever wish to see a better plucked one...."

We sat silent after that; out of doors the light began to stir among the
leaves. There were all kinds of rustling sounds, as if the world were
turning over in bed.

Suddenly Dan said:

"He's cheated me. I paid him to clear out and leave her alone. D' you
think she's asleep?" He's made no appeal for sympathy, he'd take pity
for an insult; but he feels it badly.

"I'm tired as a cat," he said at last, and went to sleep on my bed.

It's broad daylight now; I too am tired as a cat....

V

"Saturday, 6th August.

.... I take up my tale where I left off yesterday.... Dan and I
started as soon as we could get Mrs. Hopgood to give us coffee. The old
lady was more tentative, more undecided, more pouncing, than I had ever
seen her. She was manifestly uneasy: Ha-apgood--who "don't slape" don't
he, if snores are any criterion--had called out in the night, "Hark to
th' 'arses' 'oofs!" Had we heard them? And where might we be going then?
'Twas very earrly to start, an' no breakfast. Haapgood had said it was
goin' to shaowerr. Miss Pasiance was not to 'er violin yet, an' Mister
Ford 'e kept 'is room. Was it?--would there be--? "Well, an' therr's an
'arvest bug; 'tis some earrly for they!" Wonderful how she pounces on
all such creatures, when I can't even see them. She pressed it absently
between finger and thumb, and began manoeuvring round another way. Long
before she had reached her point, we had gulped down our coffee, and
de